You talk to me and I listen.
You smile,…yet I feel sad.
I talk, and you don’t hear a thing;
The connection’s always bad.
You look at me, and I at you.
You move, and I stand still.
I see you, yet you don’t see me;
And I fear you never will.
K. Aldaya, 10/23/18
Picture: https://www.shutterstock.com/video/clip-28677217-phone-receiver-hanging-off-hook-public-box
*Static*……………………………….”Hello?”
“She’s not here.”………………”Not here?”
“She’s missing.”………………..”But where?”
“In the basement.”…………..”But why?”
*Sobs*………………………………..”Don’t cry.”
“They left her.”…………………”Who did?”
“Everyone.”……………………….*Static*
K. Aldaya, 10/2/18
Gif: https://giphy.com/gifs/noise-static-nihilminus-3o85xuOopcjqT2AgzC
There are passions hidden inside,
In chests locked and dusty.
I wish I didn’t have to hide,
All the best parts of me.
It’s not as if I chose to leave,
Parts of my heart behind.
It’s not as if I didn’t grieve,
And fight back with my mind.
My passions were taken from me,
By life’s consequences.
I can’t fix what’s happened to me,
Or live in ‘past tense’s’.
If I could make a net to cast,
Into the sea of thought.
I’d ne’er have let them swim on past;
Yet, it is all for naught!
I can not fix my skittish brain.
There is no pill or cure;
Though I wish I were not insane,
‘Want’ won’t make it occur.
I opened up the chest last night,
In dreams, I came to life.
I sang and it was all alright,…
Then wept for my lost life.
No one will ever know the me,…
The me which could have been;
She had passions you’ll never see,
But some dreams can’t happen.
There are passions hidden inside,
In chests locked and dusty,
And if I may, I’d like to confide,
That sometimes I will take the key,
And open them up for a time.
K. Aldaya, 8/27/18
Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/key-open-castle-close-close-up-1422806/
I hate when you treat me nicely.
I hate when I start to believe.
I hate that I set myself up again,
To question reality.
I hate that you’re not a monster.
I hate that I can’t run away.
I hate that I will walk closer to you,
And put myself in danger.
I hate that life’s not black or white.
I hate that I do not hate you.
I hate that nothing is ever simple,
And that none of this feels right.
I hate that I can not trust you.
I hate that to trust is a trap.
I hate that I try, and hate that I care,
When I really don’t want to.
I hate that you don’t really care.
I hate that it’s all a mirage.
I hate that I always hate myself more,
When again you leave me there…
…in your dust.
K. Aldaya, 8/11/18
Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/iraq-sandstorm-weather-man-80329/
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 